


for you, there'll be no more crying

by came0utswinging



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4134624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/came0utswinging/pseuds/came0utswinging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>she won't tell if he won't</p><p> </p><p>Companion piece to "for you, the sun will be shining"</p>
            </blockquote>





	for you, there'll be no more crying

Charlie Weasley is eleven when she first walks (or, rather, _trips_ ) into his life.

It’s just a day after his sorting (a courageous Gryffindor of course; his parents are _so_ proud) and after a run in with Peeves the boy had picked up his pace for the return to his dormitory. Unfortunately for the boy, the spook from Peeves had sent him reeling and he had become quite lost within the confines of the large and still unfamiliar castle. This, he decided upon reflection, was the reason he unceremoniously ran into the Hufflepuff girl, sending them both flying.

“Ouch! Watchit!”

“Oof. Sorry, sorry…”

He looks up to see a disgruntled girl, another first year like him, with shockingly _red_ hair and a  Hufflepuff tie slung around her neck.

This makes him feel even guiltier; not only is she a _girl_ (and you had to be careful around girls. Well, that’s what Bill had told him, anyway) she’s a _Hufflepuff_  and Hufflepuff’s weren’t exactly the brightest stars in the sky. In fact, they were a bit useless really (something else that Bill had told him. Gryffindor’s were cool, Slytherin’s were mean, Ravenclaw’s were snooty and Hufflepuff’s were a bit useless really. Charlie would, of course come to learn that this was _not_ in fact true but as an impressionable eleven year old in his first days of school, Charlie believed just about every word Bill said. Even the story about McGonagall’s underwear draw)

“Are you… alright?” he asks her.

She stands up, brushes herself off and flashes him a somewhat wonky smile, her brown hair (but wait, he could have _sworn_ it was red before) in a disarray.

“’Course I am” she replies, walking towards him. “I like your hair”

The girl screws up her face for a second and then, in a flash, her hair is the same shocking orange as his own. Charlie has to admit; he is pretty impressed (if not a little scared)

“What’s your name?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.

Charlie shuffles his feet.

“What’s wrong? Kneazle got your tongue?” she asks again, lips forming into a smile.

“It’s just… my brother said we shouldn’t make friends with people in other houses ‘cause when we beat them at Quidditch they’ll be mad. He had a Ravenclaw friend once and that happened. Besides, he might be mad”

Instead of walking away, however, the girl simply sticks out her hand, smile widening.

“I won’t tell if you won’t”

There couldn’t really be any harm in befriending the girl, could there? It doesn’t take Charlie long tp decide that befriending the girl might be in his best interest; he doesn’t exactly have many friends yet and besides, she’s got this cheerful aura surrounding her that makes him grin. He takes her hand and shakes once.

“My name’s Charlie. Charlie Weasley”

“Nice name. You can call me Tonks”

Charlie frowns.

“You’ve only got one name?” Honestly, what parents didn’t give their children a first name?

“Well” she sighs, puffing out her cheeks and pulling a face. “Not really. But my first name is _horrible_ ”

“What is it?”

“My Dad calls me Dora. But that’s not my name, not really”

“Is that some kind of weird clue?” Charlie asks, laughing.

Tonks just shrugs, grins and turns on her heel.

“See ya later, Weasley!” she calls over her shoulder as she runs off down the corridor, tripping slightly at the end.

X

Its two years before he hears the phrase again.

Second Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor vs  Hufflepuff and he’s on _fire,_ even if he does say so himself. He catches the snitch no problem and the match is over within five minutes.

As he dismounts, Charlie scans the crowd leaving the stadium for a familiar, bubblegum-pink head. After turning his head left and right many times, he still can’t see her amongst the large group of Hufflepuffs and he’s definitely not stupid enough to go barging through the lot of them to find her, not when they’re still sore from their loss. (200-10; it was a good match… for the lions anyway)

Sighing, he wanders off towards the changing rooms, lagging behind the rest of his team. He wonders if she’ll be mad that he beat her team again (it wuld be tw years before she joined the Huflepuff team herself); last time, she didn’t talk to him for a week. She’s competitive but then again so is he and he can quite clearly remember storming off in a sulk the last time Gryffindor had lost.

He’s at the edge of the pitch – which has quickly emptied – when the hands grab him and drag him behind the seats at the edge of the pitch, out of sight of everyone else. Before he can attempt to brush off his assailant, however, they throw their arms around his neck and suddenly he knows who it is.

Nymphadora Tonks, metamorphmagus (which explains the hair colour change), Hufflepuff (who _aren’t_ useless; he got a thump around the ear for that one) and all around best friend type person. He hugs her back tightly and she laughs into his ear.

“Congratulations!” she grins, pulling back from the hug.

“Shouldn’t you be rooting for the other team? I mean, doesn’t this count as consorting with the enemy?” he teases.

“We’ve got a crap team this year; I was rooting for you anyway. Secretly, of course” she winks at him. “Besides… I won’t tell if you won’t”

X

He’s sixteen years old when she kisses him.

It’s his birthday and they’re standing in the owlery, sending a thank-you letter to his parents. She’s already bought him a gift – a gorgeous leather bound book of dragons – so he doesn’t expect anything else. He’s just sent the owl off on its way when she instructs him to close his eyes. He’s curious but he’s trusted her completely for so long that it doesn’t bother him too much.

It’s then that she takes his hand and presses her lips against his.

He doesn’t expect it, of course, but he’s not disappointed; he’s imagined kissing her for almost two years now, ever since the butterflies started to invade his stomach.

She pulls back and grins at him, a familiar smile he’s seen more times that he can remember, but one that is stunning all the same.

He tells her he’s not sure that this is right; he’s got all these _feelings_ and he really isn’t sure about them because she’s his best mate and you’re not supposed to have feelings for your best mate, right? Plus his brothers would never stop badgering him if he told them; Fred and George had just become first years and he was certain they’d have something to say, they always did. Then there was Percy, the irritatingly rule-abiding third year who was _sure_ to tell their Mother something, something that Charlie definitely didn’t want, not one bit, not yet at least.

Besides, he’s never really _had_ a girlfriend, not properly, and although he’s considered what he’d do should he get one he’s sure it’s going to be different with Tonks because… well, because she’s _Tonks_ and she’s probably the coolest person ever.

She just smiles reassuringly and tells him that it won’t ruin their friendship; if anything, it’ll just make it _stronger_ and he believes her. He has no reason not to.

“Anyway” she tells him. “I won’t tell if you won’t”

X

The next year and a half goes much too quickly and they soon find themselves sitting on his bed in the Gryffindor’s boys dorm (a place she’s been sneaking into more and more over the past year) on the day of their graduation.

They’ve come to a dead end; he’s going to Romania to breed dragons and she’s going to become an auror. They’ve agreed that a long-distance thing wouldn’t work, not one bit, but actually letting go is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

She leans over and wraps her arms around him one final time and before he can comprehend what’s happening they’re lying down and he’s kissing her as if his life depended on it. With the way he’s feeling, his life might just depend on it.

He looks at her and her face is tear-stained. He knows his is as well; he’s not going to lie.

“I’m not sure if two people that have just broken up should really be doing this” he tells her.

“It’s okay” she replies “I won’t tell if you won’t”

They owl constantly for the next two years, even managing to see each other three or four times. It always ends the same way; lying together again, wrapped around each other, a doubt in his mind that is easily erased by those six words:

“I won’t tell if you won’t”

X

He’s twenty-one when the owls stop coming regularly and he hears of Sirius Black’s escape. He fears for her; through her time at Hogwarts she would always insist that her cousin just _had_ to be innocent. People told her she was mental, of course, which earned them a fair few hexes.

The next year, however, he joins the Order and finds out that she was telling the truth all along. By this time, they’re owling regularly again but something seems _different_. He’s sure there’s some kind of hidden meaning underneath it all but can’t seem to figure it out so he pushes it to the back of his mind.

X

Charlie comes back to England for a visit a year later.

He inquires about Tonks when he talks to his Mother and she tells him that she isn’t doing so well. Sirius is dead, although he knew that already and the stress is getting to all of them.

The way she tells it, however, makes him feel as though she is holding something back and he decides to pay Tonks a visit himself.

As soon as he sees her, standing in the doorway of her flat, he knows something’s wrong She’s lost all of her colour, her eyes no longer hold their twinkle and when she smiles it’s a ghost of the one he used to know.

She invites him in and he’s surprised that, after just a couple of drinks, she’s kissing him. This shouldn’t be happening, he knows it. There’s something else here (some _one_ else?) and he can’t shake the feeling that she’s using him.

Even so, he follows her when she grabs his hand and leads him to bed; he can’t even fathom being able to say no, not to her.

Still, he can tells something’s wrong as her hands run over his body. They feel desperate, _too_ desperate and he can’t help but feel slightly insecure, as though he should be someone else. The way she looks at him, touches him – he can’t help but feel as though he’s not tall enough, not slender enough, that his hair isn’t long enough, his skin too smooth. She brushes the skin over his chest – the place the dragons haven’t managed to smooth – gently, too gently, tracing something that isn’t there. She whispers a name and, although it has two syllables, he’s almost certain that it isn’t his.

When it’s over he tries to pull her closer but she shuffles away. She won’t look him in the eyes.

“Tonks…” she whispers and she shudder.

Finally, she does turn to look at him and when she does her eyes seem to be brimmed with tears.

“I’m sorry, Charlie” she whispers.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

She does. She tells him everything.

About Bellatrix and Sirius and the werewolf named Remus Lupin and he listens even though his heart is beginning to feel like a block of ice. He’s lost her.

By the time he’s been filled in up to the part where he knocked on the door of her flat, she’s biting her lip as she always does when she’s feeling nervous or guilty. She tries to apologise again but he places a finger to her lips, silencing her, even though it hurts.

“It’s okay. No one needs to know” he tells her even though he wants to scream everything from the rooftops, wants to run up to the man and ask him what the _fuck_ he was thinking leaving her. Wants to tell him that they’ve been together in his absence. Wants him to be jealous.

She smiles weakly and embraces him and, for a second, he thinks they might just be able to make another g of it.

“I won’t tell if you won’t”

X

The next time he sees her alone he knows that it’s a make-or-break situation.

It’s the night before her wedding (she’s going to marry the bastard that left) and she’s standing in Bill’s old bedroom at the Burrow. Always the family friend, she’d stayed for dinner and asked to stay the night before to be ready for the next day.

She’s staring out the window, an unreadable expression on her face and he hopes that he might just still be in with a chance.

Charlie walks over to her, takes an old necklace from her pocket and gently wraps it around her neck. She startles briefly but soon relaxes after realising who it is that has approached her.

He fastens the clasp around her neck; it’s nothing special, not at all. A thin chain with a dragon pendant hanging from it. He’s had it since his sixteenth birthday, a present from his older brother from Egypt. He leans closer to her neck and she shivers as his breath tickles it.

“Something borrowed” he whispers and, before she can say anything, kisses the place where he’s fastened it. She doesn’t move away as his lips trace her neck, up to the curve of her jaw, stopping at the corner of her mouth.

“Charlie” she whispers. He thinks she’s toying with the idea in her mind; a choice between two.

It could work, he thinks; he’s almost sure that at least fifty percent of marriages have some kind of affairs in them and besides, he’s almost certain that he’s seen Remus Lupin looking at Emmeline Vance across the table.

(okay, so maybe that last part is a lie but still)

“I won’t tell if you won’t” he murmurs against her skin.


End file.
